


Jackie and Wilson

by redroses100



Series: Two Corpses We Were [3]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blow Jobs, Exposition, I'm exhausted, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Revelations, Sexual Content, Vampires, at all, idk - Freeform, of the emotional variety, this is harder than normal, vampire shit gets talked about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 07:59:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13970739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redroses100/pseuds/redroses100
Summary: Shizuo is suffering and Izaya is stubborn. But that's fine, because as much as he tries, Izaya's not going to scare Shizuo off! He's not. Definitely not....OR even more vampire au, I have nothing original or funny to say, it's just boys with fangs.





	Jackie and Wilson

**Author's Note:**

> *throws this at your feet and falls asleep on it* it is shorttt (i'm sorry, i planned for more but didn't want to make you wait moreee) and it is lateee (i'm sorry i haven't had time to write like at alll), but i trieddd...  
> please like it! or don't, that's cool. i'll survive.  
> (also i did not proofread this, it's probably terrible, i'll fix it later)

‘Cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done I need to be youthfully felt, ‘cause God I never felt young…

///

Something I’ve noticed, Izaya always looks like he’s on the verge of breaking out in a dead sprint. There’s this perpetual shiftiness to him, like he’s blurring at the edges when he moves. Like there’s too much nervous energy to be completely contained. Like he wants to run, as fast as he possibly can.

I’m doing my best not to let him.

It’s been months since I got to peek under his hood for the first time. And I’ll admit, I was not prepared for what I found there. Izaya, as it turns out, is way crazier than I ever anticipated. But, in a completely different way than I thought.

The hideous personality I always wanted to drop kick into oblivion is still there, of course. But now, I’m pretty damn sure most of it is just an act. A performance to cover up his real crazy- which is basically a hotbed of seething anxiety and doubt. It’s really no wonder he’s so restless and bitter. He’s been fighting a battle against his brain for a really long time.

I’m not sure exactly how long, because the little shit is more tight lipped than ever these last few months. But I’m just gonna assume it’s been a while. I mean, why else would he constantly look like he’s about to take off down the street?

Even while he works- which is the time he claims to be the most relaxed. I’ve been lounging on his couch for an hour so far today, and in that whole time his body hasn’t dropped its tense rigidity once! He’s not fidgeting or anything like that, he’s actually abnormally still. But again, that just makes it seem like he’s poised at the start of a race.

I feel like I might blink and he’ll be halfway out the door before I can notice.

“I’m going home.” Namie- uh- Yagiri-san announces. Both Izaya and I snap ourselves back to reality, his focus returning from his work and mine from staring at him intently. Yagiri-san rolls her eyes at us.

“Don’t get lost on your way.” Izaya drawls, smirking at his suffering assistant. She points her sharp nose in the air, tosses her long hair as she flounces away. “Bring me blood tomorrow morning!” The little shit calls after her.

“Get it yourself!” Yagiri-san yells back. But she’ll show up in the morning with two bags from Izaya’s supplier- whoever the fuck that is. She’s bitter, but obedient. Sometimes I wonder why. How did Izaya gain her loyalty? But it’s probably better if I don’t know.

“Goodnight, Yagiri-san.” I give her a more mild mannered farewell. She still ignores me completely, snapping the door shut behind her. “Why doesn’t she like me?”

“Hmm?” Izaya’s head tilts to the side, his hair brushing against his neck softly. I can’t help but watch the shift of the shadows on his skin as he does it. “Namie doesn’t like anyone.”

“She likes you.” I grumble, definitely not pouting.

“Well, who doesn’t? I’m a goddamn pleasure.” His grin is as sharp as his many knives. But it’s a complete charade. All of his overblown confidence is. “What makes you think she doesn’t like you? Hell, what makes you think she likes me?”

“She always does what you tell her.” I point out.

“I pay her.” Izaya replies bluntly.

“You pay her to be your secretary. Sorting files, arranging meetings. But she buys you food, even when you don’t ask her to. And she cleans your place.”

“Neither of which are examples of altruism, I assure you. The food thing is to make me uncomfortable since it’s hard for me to stomach human food these days. And I promise you, she’s not cleaning. She’s making a point. Or did you not notice the newest statue in her museum.” He gestures towards the kitchen, which I hardly ever glance at.

After all, it’s hard to convince myself to eat his food when I could be eating him instead.

But now that he’s pointed it out, I take in the impressive array of cobbled together creations on the counter. All made from garbage, but still impressive. She must have a lot of time on her hands. Or just an endless amount of bitterness that needs to be expressed somehow. Probably both.

“Why do you care what Namie thinks anyway?” Izaya drawls, leaning back in his swivel chair. It dips to an almost dangerous angle. I flinch forward like there’s any way I could make it all the way over there before the chair, and Izaya, went careening to the ground. But the chair stops abruptly and Izaya smirks at the panic on my face. Which turns to a scowl.

“I __don’t__ care.” I bark at him. He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “But she’s always around. And…I dunno.” She’s important to you. You’re important to me. Fuck, Izaya would flay me for saying that out loud.

“Shizu-chan just wants everyone to like him. You’re so desperate for attention.” He sighs, stretching out like a cat. Which is a view I would normally appreciate seeing. But not while he’s perched precariously on an overextended chair.

“Would you stop that?” I hiss, trying to restrain myself from charging towards him. Izaya giggles, but slowly brings his body back up so he’s sitting stable. Then he stands and prowls towards me, his feline grace clear in the long lines of his limbs.

“What would Shizu-chan do to get attention, I wonder?” He muses, stepping up onto the couch at the opposite end from me. He treats all of his belongings poorly, and usually not for the purpose they’re designed for.

He frequently stands on his coffee table to monologue, drinks disgusting black coffee from bowls, paces across the back rest of the couch when he wants to think.

Which is exactly what he’s doing now. The first few times I saw him do it, I wrenched him back down to the ground, too nervous about him falling and splitting his head on the shallow handful of steps behind the couch. But Izaya never falls. His balance is as flawless as his record of being an asshole.

“Maybe you’d uproot a building and use the rubble to spell out a verse of poetry.” He suggest. Then scrunches up his face in an exaggeration of realization. “No, that would never work.” He sighs. Everything about his dramatic display makes me think he’s going in for the kill. “You need to be able to spell to write poetry.” Called it.

“I could always take a page out of your book. Stand on the edge of a building shouting about how much I love everyone and everything. Creeping out anyone without hearing distance.” I mutter. He giggles again, before dropping into a sorrowful act.

“How savage, Shizu-chan.” He whines at me, though he sounds the opposite of hurt by the statement. Even the pout he pastes on his face is too fake to look like he’s putting any effort into the charade. “You used to get so upset by my teasing though. You’re so boring now that you’ve embraced your monstrous side.”

I dart forward while he’s lamenting his woes, getting my hand around his ankle before he can step back. All it takes is a good tug to get him off balance and crashing hard to the couch. I would be worried about the rough landing, but it’s Izaya. He bounces back. He always does.

The little shit is already giggling by the time I’ve crawled over him to gnaw at his neck. I’m not hungry, not even close. I just like how he instinctively turns his head to bear his neck to me when I do this. Like he’s submitting in some way. It’s wishful fantasizing at it’s best, but I don’t give a fuck.

“I’ll have to do something interesting for you then.” I growl into his skin. He shivers, though I don’t know how much of it is real and how much is faked. It can be impossible to tell with him sometimes …most of the time.

“Promises, promises.” Izaya purrs back, pecking my nose when I look up at him.

It’s while I’m luxuriating in the small action that he rolls his weight to the side, knocking my arm so it slides off the couch and sends the rest of me off balance. Izaya grabs my shoulders, shoving me into the fall so I land hard on my back on the ground. And only a moment later his weight settles on top of me, driving all the air from my lungs as he grins down at me, perched on my stomach.

If I still needed to breathe, I’d be winded and furious right now. But as it stands, I’m only mildly irritated. I guess that’s the biggest thing that’s changed over the last six months.

Things that used to drive me crazy with rage are now minor inconveniences at best. Especially when it comes to Izaya. Everything he does is more endearing than infuriating. And not for lack of trying on his end.

He’s definitely tried to infuriate me. And when he does, he gets jumpier than a fox, waiting for me to snap and attack him. I think even after so much time, he’s still waiting for me to turn back into the Monster of Ikebukuro. The one who hated him and wanted him dead.

But it’s been half a year, and I still look at him and only see a spoiled rotten brat with too many issues to fit on a single sheet of paper. And even the stubborn shit sitting on my stomach can’t deny that any major changes caused by him turning me would have reverted to normal by now- if they were going to. Which pretty much means, I’m going to stay like this forever.

I’m going to stay helplessly infatuated with the shittiest person I’ve ever met…forever. And I’m okay with it.

It’s Izaya who’s having a hard time accepting it. Even though there’s no way my “puberty” is still ongoing at this point, he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He always watches me with at least half of his attention. He gives me a good deal of space. And he always looks like he’s ready to run. Ready to skip away from my grasp and lead me on a chase through the city that I’ve never been able to win.

“Ne, Shizu-chan, I think I’ve got it!” He suddenly exclaims, crouching down with his elbows in my chest. I grunt a little at the sharp prod, but he only takes that as encouragement. Of course he does, it is Izaya, after all. “You could announce to the whole country that you’re a blood sucking freak of nature! That’ll definitely get you attention.” He pauses to hum with consideration. “Although, maybe not the kind you want.”

I grab him tight by his hips, lurching up and forward to slam him down on his back- so that I can lean over him again. He’s laughing the whole time. Little shit.

“Aww, am I pissing Shizu-chan off?” Izaya snickers.

However a smirk curls up my lips, and that gets him to calm down and eye me warily. “Not at all.” I purr. “Don’t you get it? You’re right, I do want attention.”

He doesn’t look gratified by my admittance. He still looks utterly suspicious. Probably because he knows better by now. I don’t admit defeat- definitely not so easily. And especially not when I’m actually winning.

“But, you know…it’s your attention I want. And you’re so graciously giving it to me, without me even needing to ask.”

If there’s one way to turn the tide of Izaya’s little games, it’s to say something like this. His embarrassment cuts off his steady flow of words and insults, while his heavily suppressed romantic side becomes too flustered to let him create new ones. He becomes a stuttering, mindless mess. And I live for it.

His brow is furrowed in indignation and concentration when I curl my fingers under his chin and tilt his face towards mine. “But since you’re so concerned with my need for validation, I’m sure you won’t mind if I just take advantage of your attention.” I suppose smoothly, attacking his lips before he has the possibility of recovering. He’s quick, after all, and not even embarrassment can keep him stumped for too long.

But it’s hard for him to snarl when I have my tongue in his mouth. And it’s hard for him to pretend to be affronted when I can pull such sweet little moans from him throat with just a slow kiss.

He’s still pouted when I pull back, but he looks resigned to his fate. I smile.

“Shizu-chan plays dirty.” Izaya huffs. I leave lingering kisses on his cheek, making my way slowly down to his jaw and then up to his ear. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Every word.” I pitch my voice low enough that he feels it more than hears it. I like watching the way the baby hairs at the bottom of his hairline start to raise when I do this. He’s less thrilled about it. Izaya squirms under me, no longer certain of his ability to control the situation. I like this moment too.

Six months ago, he’d do anything to escape a situation he wasn’t completely in control of. But now, it doesn’t hit him as hard. He’s not desperate to be in charge. He’s starting to accept that he can trust me with the reigns. But only a little.

“You really are boring then. What kind of monster are you? Rolling over for a belly rub instead of biting the hand that feeds you.” He scoffs. I nip at his earlobe, delighting in his little whine.

“I’m your monster.” I state simply. And he’s silent for so long that I actually back off a few inches to make sure he’s okay. Izaya won’t meet my gaze, but in moments like this that’s actually a good thing. It means he’s present and aware, just too embarrassed to function like he’s present and aware.

I start pressing my lips to his throat, slowly descending until I’ve reached the collar of his shirt. Out of everything, I think these are my favorite moments with Izaya. Every time I do this- make hints that I want to go further with him- he gets unbearably shy. All of his acting and pretenses slip away and I’m left with what he really is. A little liar who’s scared of intimacy, but who craves it all the same.

He’s a walking contradiction. And getting used to that has been the most frustrating part of the last six months. Not the changes to my body, or the new craving for blood, or the idea that I’ll live forever. Those things are weird, sure. But I got used to them pretty fast. Izaya though…I don’t know if I’ll ever be used to him.

“Hey.” I whisper, drawing his slightly glazed eyes to me. “Can I suck you off?”

At least I can take comfort in the fact that he’s not used to me yet either. The way his eyes widen is almost comical. And his mouth opens and closes a few times before he settles on biting his bottom lip. I wonder if he knows how cute he looks when he does that.

“Is that a yes?” I chuckle, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I-It’s not a no.” He awkwardly murmurs. “Although your fascination with eating different parts of me is worrying.” He then drawls, regaining some of his normal bravado already.

Not if I have anything to do with it.

“What can I say? You taste good.” I punctuate this with a lewd lick up the side of his face. His adorably indignant squawk is music to my ears.

Izaya continues muttering bitterly to himself as I make my way slowly down his body. This is different now too, compared to when I was still a newborn. In those days he wouldn’t sit still if I so much as sat in his same space. Now- for all his bitching- he lays still and relaxed beneath me as I uncover skin and lather attention on what I find.

When I pull his jeans down off his legs and nip at a sharp hipbone, he moans instead of squirms. It’s a transition that I know wasn’t easy for him. It still isn’t, probably. So I put extra care into my touches; extra time into the buildup; extra adoration in my gaze when I look up at him.

Izaya’s gaze darts away immediately, but I know that if he could blush, he’d be the color of a tomato. Just imagining it brings a fond smile to my face as I lick at the head of his dick.

That first contact has him compulsively gasping a breath he has no use for. His hands tighten to fists at his sides. I slide my palms up his hip to meet with his tense little hand, coaxing it open to twine my fingers with his. Izaya grips my hand tight, nearly crushing my digits when I lick at him again.

He’s so fucking cute, I hate it sometimes. In the past six months I’ve seduced him a lot. But I don’t think he realizes that every time I’ve come on to him, it’s been because he seduces me first. He seduces me with his sharp wit and his moments of weakness; and with his strength as well. And that’s another thing I don’t think he realizes.

Izaya is impossibly strong. Physically, yes, he is a vampire after all. But his real strength comes in different forms. He’s strong in the sense that he’s terrified of one day having me look at him, and on that day I might not see anything but a blood sucking flea. The thought petrifies him. But he still allows himself to let me in like this. He still allows himself this intimacy, even though he believes wholeheartedly that it’ll be taken from him someday.

He’s scared, but he’s strong. So I try to do as much as I can to make that fear easier to bear for him.

I try to pour as much of my feelings as I can into something as crude and simple as a blow job. But the fact is, that’s the only way I can express those feelings. He just doesn’t believe me if I try to use words to express it.

“S-Shizu-” Izaya’s moaning now, eyes closed as he gets lost in pleasure. I always take my time when he lets me do this. Licking and teasing until he starts to moan like this. He calls it torture, but he’s never asked me to hurry up. I think he likes the slow pace just as much as- if not more than- I do. He just likes whining too much to pass it up.

With a little fond chuckle too soft for him to hear it, I take the head of his dick in my mouth finally. Izaya tosses his head back, obviously fighting the urge to thrust up into my mouth. I keep my free hand on his hips to help him out, anchoring him to the ground.

Desperate is a good look on him. The way he bites his lip and presses his eyes closed as I slowly make my way further down his dick. The fine shaking along his muscles as he tries so hard not to give away how much he wants this. He doesn’t need to hide it- I tell him that all the time. But progress comes in small steps, I know that much.

When my nose brushes against Izaya’s pubes he breathes so harshly I’m positive he didn’t even realize he was holding his breath. And his shuddering inhale comes a few seconds too late as well. After that I can see him making a conscious effort to remember to breath.

With a very small measure of inner sadism, I wait for him to exhale again and then suck firmly as I pull up the length of his dick. The rest of his breath turns into a drawn out groan, which turns into a sob of an inhale.

“Sh-hizu-o-” Izaya squeezes hard at my hand, red eyes fluttering open beautifully. I sink back down to take him fully in, ignoring the ache in my throat.

He watches me do this a few times, almost like he’s in a trance. His grip will loosen of it’s own accord every now and then, and when he realizes it he’ll clutch at me again. When I start to suck and bob on his cock harder and with more urgency, his eyes slip closed again, while his lips fall slack to pant for air.

He’s fucking beautiful. Even before, I knew that. It was a begrudging recognition at best, but I knew it. I always knew that if I had the chance, I would fuck him. I never knew I would enjoy it so much.

“Nngh, Shizuo-” Izaya arches- or tries to. I keep him pressed down to the floor, pretty much limiting him to wriggling. And wriggle he does.

There’s so much energy and mania building in the body beneath me. If I gave it an outlet, I’m sure it could destroy this whole building. But I want it to keep building. And I want to be the one to take it all when he can’t hold it in anymore. I’ve worked so hard for it after all.

He’s getting close, I can tell. Sometimes I drag this out as much as possible. Sometimes, if I seem too eager, he forces himself to last past the point of comfort. But sometimes, neither of us are concerned with power struggles.

I pull off his dick, moving my hand from his hip to stroke steadily up and down instead. “Are you gonna come?” I ask him as gently as possible. He nods, some of his hair bouncing to reveal the sweat soaked layer against his forehead. “You’re so beautiful…” I sigh.

Izaya’s eyes fly open, glaring at me. I refuse to be cowed, smiling warmly at the little shit in my grasp. And before he can yell, or get too off track, I take him back in my mouth and do all the things I know he likes.

I rub my thumb into the vein on the underside of his cock, suckling at his head and dipping my tongue into his slit to really drive him over. It barely takes ten seconds before he’s choking back a yell and coming in my mouth. I swallow around his dick, his little whimpers from the added stimulation sounding so sweet.

“Shizu-chan…” Izaya whines, his hand twisting in my hair and pulling. I sigh through my nose, withdrawing with one last good suck. “You’re gross. Swallowing like that.” His face is scrunched up with disgust, but it’s as fake as his scowl.

“You don’t seem to have a problem with it when you do it.” I point out, resting my chin on his hip. He keeps his hand in my hair, but now starts to pet and play with the strands.

“Well, it would just end up in a different trash can anyway, if I didn’t swallow. So I might as well.” Izaya shrugs.

Immediately I’m rolling my eyes, tucking my chin in to get my mouth on his skin and bite down. Not to feed, just to get him to gasp a little. “Shut up.”

“So mean.” He pouts. I lick the imprints of my teeth, sucking soothingly at his skin after. “Shizu-chan doesn’t have a problem putting his cum in me in other places, anyway. So you have no high ground here.”

“Why are you like this?” I sigh, but his giggle is actually pretty cute. Not that I would ever admit that. He grins like he can hear my thoughts anyway.

Well, actually…if he could hear them he’d definitely be trying to knife me.

 He’s so fucked up. But then, what does that make me? I’m the one who’s in love with the little shit, after all.

///

“Hey.” Kadota glances up from the toolbox he’s riffling through. I can see the surprise clearly on his face. I don’t generally start conversations- not just with him, with anyone. But especially with him. We haven’t really talked in months. Six months, to be exact.

Things are just awkward with him right now. Mostly because he’s pretty much my only friend who doesn’t know about my new…state of being. I mean, Celty knew immediate, the first time she saw me after the change. And since Shinra already knew about Izaya, it didn’t mean much to tell him.

The hard part was telling Kasuka, and my parents. Well, the really hard part was getting them to believe me when I told them. Kasuka didn’t really react, but I could tell he was skeptical. And my parents were very open about their skepticism.

In the end, they were cool with it. I told them everything Izaya had told me, and after some convincing, they agreed to keep it a secret as long as I wanted them to.

And of course I had to tell Tom. My already impossible strength became twice as impossible overnight, there was no way I could avoid telling him. And he was much quicker to believe me, since he sees crazy shit all the time. It wasn’t a big deal, thankfully. He just made me promise to never bite a client.

Which is an easy enough promise to make. I only bite Izaya, really.

“Hey.” Kadota finally replies once his shock fades. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah.” I grunt awkwardly. “Uh, what’s been going on?” He straightens up from his crouch, toolbox forgotten.

“Not much. Just working and stuff.” He shrugs. “How about you? You’ve been kinda scarce around here lately. Heard you’ve been spending a lot of time in Shinjuku. Been fighting with Izaya?” There’s the threat of a reprimand in his tone. Which brings an easy smile to my face.

“Shockingly no. The exact opposite actually.” His brows raise in surprise, but he looks hesitant to ask a question that in the old days would instantly make me fly off the handle. I save him the trouble. “We’re seeing each other.”

“Wow…that’s…” Weird. Really weird. I know that’s what his silence means. It’s pretty much the same reaction I always get to the news. Honestly the people closest to me have been having a harder time accepting my relationship with Izaya than they have accepting the fact that I’ve been turned into a vampire.

“Yeah, so…guess that clears up a lot of my schedule, now that we’re not trying to kill each other.” I aim for a joke. But he still looks troubled.

“What um…what spurred this on?” He asks, leaning back against the railing he had stopped beside to dig in his toolbox. I rub at the back of my neck, feeling a bit like I’m having to come out to my father all over again.

“I guess I just…got a new perspective on life. Near death experience and all that. It really changed a lot of things for me.” His brow crinkles.

“Did he turn you into a vampire?” I feel like I’ve been punched in the face. And not lightly. I gape at Kadota as he sighs and shakes his head. “That guy has no self control.”

“Wha- you know?” Izaya never mentioned this! He said he’d only ever told Shinra, Shiki, and Namie! Why would he lie about Kadota?

“Of course I know.” He snorts, and when he smiles two fangs break up the line of his teeth. “I mean, we’ve never talked about it, but I’m pretty sure the whole reason we became friends was because we were the only two vampires at Raijin.” He remarks casually. I glance around nervously, but there’s no one around. It’s pretty early in the morning after all.

“He never mentioned that…” I mutter.

“He wouldn’t. It’s kinda a thing you don’t talk about.” I knew that much. Izaya is so tight lipped about it sometimes, even when I’m just asking questions to better understand myself. I guess it’s just something that’s been drilled into him. Secrecy can be a heavy burden.

“But still, I never even thought that you were…” Hold on… “Wait, did you say Raijin?”

“Well yeah. Not like we went to any other schools together bud.” Kadota laughs, but I’m not really in a laughing mood.

“But you’ve both aged since then. There’s no way you got turned as teenagers.” I yell, my confusion giving way to frustration. He looks puzzled for a moment too, but then realization seems to strike and he gives me a patient smile.

“Come on, why don’t we talk about this somewhere more private.” He suggests. And even though it’s early morning and not many people are out, it’s a good idea. No telling when someone could chance upon us. But I’m too agitated to admit that right now. Instead I grumble and follow unhappily after him as he picks up his tools and starts walking.

Kadota brings me to the van he’s always hanging out in. It’s weird to see it empty of the other three. But it’s good there’s no one else around. He opens the back doors to put his stuff down, and gestures for me to climb inside. When he’s joined me, he closes the doors behind us and leaves us in tense silence.

“So…it’s pretty clear Izaya’s never really broached the subject of his past with you.” Kadota starts. I grunt in acknowledgment, too bitter to verbally admit that he’s right. “Well, Izaya and I are both different, in the vampire world.”

“Like a different kind of vampire? There’s different types?”

“I mean…yes and no. Physically we’re the same as all vampires. Not any stronger or faster. I mean, you’re probably stronger than the both of us combined just because of how strong you were before you were turned. The thing that makes us different is how we became vampires. We were born into it.” He pauses, watching me closely for any reaction. Honestly I have no idea how to react to this.

“Like, your parents were vampires.”

“Yeah. Both of mine were. Izaya’s mom was, but at the time his dad was still human. I think Kyouko turned him after the twins were born.” Kyouko. I didn’t even know Izaya’s mom’s name. I don’t think I ever even imagined he had a mom!

“But…if you were born a vampire…how does that…how did you…” Nothing makes sense. It makes even less sense than usual.

“Hey man, calm down. I’ll explain everything.” Kadota promises, waiting for me to relax a little before going on. “When you’re born into this thing, obviously you grow up a little different than humans, but not by much actually. We’re stronger, faster, have better reflexes than most. But not the same level as a turned vampire yet. Thus Izaya’s crazy ability to outrun you throughout high school and beyond.”

“Fuck.” I mumble. I used to get so angry about that. I’d rant and rave and demand from the heavens an explanation for how he was so good at evading me. Kadota chuckles.

“Yeah. And we had to split our diet between human food and blood. Both of us learned to feed at early ages, that’s why he’s so good at it now.” He’s really good at it. When he feeds on Shiki there’s never even a flinch of pain or fear on the man’s face. And when he feeds on me…fuck.

“But, you aged.”

“Well yeah. When you were turned, it was a quick transformation, right? Because Izaya was a grown ass adult with fully developed vampire genes. But he was born a little baby with little baby vampire genes. It took him 21 years to finish developing and for the vampire genes to cease his aging and heartbeat. That’s why he always brags about being forever 21. Total loser, right?”

I rub at my forehead, trying to fight off an impending headache. “He was a vampire the whole time?”

“Well, half a vampire. He didn’t turn fully until a handful of years ago.” Kadota insists.

“What about you?”

“Huh? Oh, I finished turning when I was 19. I have two vampire parents, so my genes were a little more developed than his.” He grins, but his teeth are normal now. He hides them so easily. Sometimes, if I think about Izaya and how he tastes and the sounds he makes beneath me, I can’t hide my fangs for the life of me. But it’s only then. Only when I think of him.

“Have you ever turned anyone?” I ask suddenly.

“Uh, sure. Erika, Walker, Saburo. They’re my coven. My parents always insisted I find one. They’re firm believers in covens.”

“Covens…” I repeat dumbly.

“Family units. For blood relatives, like Izaya and his family, they’re born into a coven. I was in my parent’s coven, until I found my own. But most vampires, who are turned, join a coven even though they’re not blood related. As long as they share blood with someone in that coven, they’re accepted. So I guess, you’re part of the Orihara coven. Part of the family!”

I flinch back a little. His face instantly twists into concern. “I have a family.” I bark. Kadota nods.

“Yeah man, I wasn’t saying you had to leave your family or anything. I just meant that in the vampire world, most people would assume that since Izaya turned you, you would join his family’s coven. Unless you two decided to break from the Orihara’s and make your own?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know any of this.” Why didn’t Izaya tell me any of this!?

Kadota is silent for a long while, letting me absorb some stuff. Most of it is basic enough to get used to. Izaya was born a vampire, fine, whatever. That’s why he was so good at slipping away from me, he had a natural advantage. A shitty cheating flea. Whom I love.

One of my friends is also a born vampire. Him and all his friends are vampires. Which I definitely did not see coming. But also, whatever. Not difficult to accept.

The other stuff gets weird, with the covens and all. But I think I could also get used to that. Especially if I got to meet my supposed coven eventually.

But the thing I can’t get over is just the fact that I’m learning all of this from Kadota! Why didn’t Izaya tell me this? Fuck, why didn’t I even think to ask? I never asked about how he was turned, or when. It never even dawned on me.

“Do you need a minute alone?” I glance up at my friend. He looks wary, and kind of sad for me. Which sucks, but okay.

“No. I’m fine. I just…I’m kinda pissed, ya know? This all seems like important stuff to know. Especially the coven thing.” He rubs the back of his head bashfully.

“It can be hard for people like us, who grow up knowing all this stuff. Everything seems so mundane to us, because it was taught to us by our parents alongside the alphabet and the names of fruits. I’ve definitely caught myself leaving out important information to my progeny, simply because I don’t even think of it as important anymore.”

“I get that.” And I do. It makes sense. But it still feels…like he was hiding it. Like he didn’t want to let me in completely. Like he’s never going to want to let me in completely.

“Hey, you gotta give Izaya a break. He’s held everyone at a distance his whole life because of what he is. That’s why he fed into your rivalry like he did, to keep you at arms length.”

“What?” I snap my head up, just in time to see regret wash over Kadota’s face. It’s clear he didn’t mean to say that. “He was trying to be enemies?”

“Well…no. Not at first. Tell you the truth, he actually really liked you. Shinra told him about you all the time and he wanted to get to know you in high school.”

“Then why the fuck was he such a little shit, if he wanted to get to know me?” I demand angrily. Kadota frowns.

“Dude, you showed immediate dislike for him, before you even knew his name. He told me once that you must have sensed something was different about him and hated it. A lot of people did that to him as a kid, he never had a friend until Shinra. And let’s be honest it’s only because Shinra was also a freak that he liked Izaya enough to hang around.”

“But he…I didn’t…” I fade off, unable to find a good excuse for myself other than, ‘pubescent sexual tension that came out as blind hatred’. Kadota sighs.

“He had to protect himself, first and foremost. His parents were always away on business, so he had to do it himself. He decided it was better to be the enemy you wanted than to be the freak who had a crush on you.”

I don’t…know how to react to this. I want to be angry at Izaya, but that seems pretty damn hypocritical. And well, I haven’t been angry with him in so long that it’s a foreign feeling at this point.

Mostly I want to slap myself. I’m such an idiot. No wonder he’s so hesitant to believe that I came to my senses about him after he changed me. How many times did he get rejected as a kid before I came along? How many times has he had to protect himself, physically and emotionally? And how many times has he had to save himself from me alone?

“I have to go.” I grunt at Kadota, already headed for the door.

“Shizuo.” He grabs my wrist, and I could easily break his hold. But I turn to look at him over my shoulder instead. “He’s your maker. But he’s not perfect. And he was born a vampire, but he’s still as human as anyone else. Just…don’t hurt him. And don’t give him a reason to hurt you.” He pleads.

“Okay.” I nod solemnly, and he lets me go.

I don’t care how stubborn or scared Izaya is, we need to have a discussion. And I need him to understand that things really are different now. Even if it means fighting with him for the first time in a long time, I need him to understand.

And if there’s consequences, I’ll deal with them. I just need to know some things. And I need him to know some things. And I’m not going to give this up until we both know the full picture.

Whether he likes it or not, he will see.

**Author's Note:**

> turns out it's really distracting when your family visits town and takes you all over the state...whoops...  
> so instead of this being the last part, there'll be another, cuz i couldn't get my butt into gear...hopefully it'll be out soon...once my family leavessss....


End file.
